Merlin Drabbles
by Maura16
Summary: A selection of one-shots based on the TV show Merlin. Different pairings and genres. Rated T for possible language.
1. Chapter 1- animate

**Author's Note: I started back at school three weeks ago and quickly realised that I will have next to no time this year. I don't want to stop writing entirely, but I can't commit to posting one of my longer WIPs.  
My school planner has a 'Word of the Week', so I will write a little one-shot using that word as my prompt, every week, and try and post regularly.  
All the drabbly stories will be in the Merlin fandom- some will be romantic, some funny, possibly some angst. Some might be linked- some will be better than others. Needless to say, I don't own Merlin, and reviews are beautiful.**

_**animate**_

The cushion flew across the room, flipping and twisting in the air as it chased the King of Camelot around his bedchamber, intent on whacking him around the head.

"Merlin!" bellowed Arthur, raising his hands in an attempt to fend off the enchanted pillow. _"Merlin!"_

The door slammed open suddenly and Arthur's Chief Warlock stumbled in, laughing hysterically. The cushion increased its assault, hitting Arthur hard in the face. He let out an 'oof' of surprise, glowering at Merlin. "Stop it, you prat!"

Merlin was doubled over, clutching his side and almost crying with laughter as the cushion battered Arthur's upraised arms, but at Arthur's glare he signed and flicked his fingers- his eyes flashed gold and the cushion fell to the ground, looking innocent, entirely harmless and completely motionless.

Arthur poked it cautiously with his toe, then stood, hands on hips, blonde hair ridiculously dishevelled, giving Merlin his best kingly glare.

Merlin straightened up, giggling and not at all cowed by Arthur's disapproval. He sauntered into the room, sprawling casually on a chair and selecting a green apple, raising it to his mouth.

The cushion came flying through the air and hit Merlin on the head. He jerked, dropping his apple and letting out an embarrassingly girly shriek.

"What were you doing?!" asked Arthur angrily. Merlin glowered at him insolently. "I was practicing the animating spell," he said grumpily.

Arthur chuckled despite himself. After all, it _was_ funny.

"Well, don't animate my cushions again, okay?"


	2. Chapter 2- attribute

_**attribute**_

Gwen hummed as she neatly folded the clothes, feeling ridiculously happy. She had met up with Lancelot last night- they had had a romantic dinner and then just spent the night talking. She smiled at the thought, almost dancing as she hung up Morgana's dresses.

As if called, Morgana slammed into the room in a swirl of expensive silk. Gwen glanced up and sighed, envious. As always, Morgana looked beautiful, every inch the high-born lady- wearing a deep crimson dress with exquisite golden beading, and with her hair in an elaborate twist, held up with sparkling pins. The murderous scowl on her face looked very out of place next to such loveliness.

"Oh, that bloody _adopted_ brother of mine! Thank god Uther decided against marrying us, I'd probably end up murdering him..." She broke off suddenly and blinked at Gwen. "You look happy!" Gwen beamed.

"I met up with Lancelot last night!" She sighed happily.

"Well, what did you do all night?" asked Morgana suggestively, leaning in close and waggling her eyebrows. Gwen pushed her away, laughing.

"No we just talked! He's so lovely- he's a great listener, so kind and attentive and he has a beautiful voice..." Gwen trailed off, gazing off into the distance dreamily.

Morgana nudged her, an obscene leer on her face. "And then there's his other _attributes _of course."

Gwen blushed beetroot.

"_Morgana!"_


	3. Chapter 3- interrogate

**If I use a different part of the verb it still counts, right?**

_**interrogate**_

"Where the hell have you been?!" Merlin had barely stepped through the door when Arthur ambushed him.

"Please don't, Arthur," said Merlin wearily, slumping into a chair, exhausted. "I'm not in the mood to be interrogated." Arthur growled in anger.

"Well that's just too bad for you then, _Mer_lin!" he barked. "You were gone for hours! I had to get my own dinner, and if I find out you were in the tavern again, so help me..."

Merlin let Arthur's harsh words wash over him. He tried to stay calm, to not shout back, to exercise restraint like Gaius always told him to... But he was bone-tired, and aching from yet another magical encounter with yet another evil creature trying to destroy/kill Camelot/Arthur.

He wanted to stand up and yell, "I was saving your life, _again_!" He wanted to confide in Arthur. He wanted to tell his best friend everything.

But he couldn't. So he held his tongue, and let Arthur shout at him, and wished he could sleep forever.


	4. Chapter 4- adequate

_**adequate**_

Arthur looked at it. "It's an okay size, I suppose," he said distractedly.

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean _okay_?!"

Arthur groaned, exasperated. "For goodness sake, Merlin, I meant that it's okay!"

At the tone of Arthur's voice, Gwaine wandered over to where the two were standing, eyebrows raised. "What are you two up to?"

Merlin looked imploringly at the knight. "What do you think?" he said, gesturing.

Gwaine glanced down appraisingly. "It's adequate," he said dismissively.

Merlin gasped, indignant. "What? No! It's... I..." he spluttered.

"Merlin, _please_ be quiet," snapped Arthur, rubbing his temples. "You're giving me a headache."

Merlin looked beseechingly at Gwaine, who chuckled.

"It's not the size that counts, it's what you do with it," he said encouragingly, clapping Merlin on the shoulder and walking away. "Maybe you could find some herbs?"

Merlin gazed at the fish he'd caught and sighed. He stomped over to the fire he'd made and crouched beside it, dejected.

"Adequate," he muttered scathingly.

_"Hmmph."_


	5. Chapter 5- auxiliary

**I'm sorry guys! This was supposed to be posted on Monday but I had so much to do I was drowning in work and my first attempt was **_**terrible. **_**SHAME ON ME! I'll try and get the next one up tomorrow if I can, and I'll try not to be so late with an update again **

** WARNING- this drabble contains sweet, mild Merthur slash. Nothing graphic or anything, but some people (strange people lol) are offended by Merthur. If that's you, sorry for calling you strange, and you might wanna skip this one. **

**SHAMELESS SELF PROMO- I've posted my first Wolfstar fic, and I'd appreciate any Potterheads checking it out, as I have mixed feelings about it. And now to the drabble!**

_**auxiliary**_

"So you see, _this _one is the auxiliary verb, and you have to..." Arthur zoned out as Merlin's lilting, soothing voice filled the room. French grammar, while important for a scribe or a translator or a writer, was not really necessary for a crown prince. But Merlin had seemed so happy to be able to teach _Arthur_ something for a change that he had been quite unable to refuse.

And now Merlin was rabbiting on about conjugating verbs and past participles and god knows what else, looking far too animated and passionate, considering the subject matter- and looking freaking gorgeous too, although he'd never admit to having thought that.

Arthur rested his chin on his hand and gazed at Merlin from under his eyelashes. He loved watching Merlin in moments like these, when he was so unguarded and relaxed. And Arthur had only ever seen Merlin like this when he and Arthur were alone together.

All that Arthur wanted to do was kiss his goofy manservant, distract him from what he was doing and pull him over to the bed. But Merlin looked equal parts calm and excited, talking about French... things, and Arthur knew how rare it was that Merlin snatched some peace.

So for now, Arthur was content to just look at Merlin. Look at his beautiful blue eyes, so focused on the page on front of him. Look at the spiky, dishevelled ebony hair falling in his face. Look at his big adorable ears and his cheekbones so sharp he could cut himself. Look at his lanky limbs and smooth, pale skin.

Because Merlin was happy. And when Merlin was happy, so was Arthur.


	6. Chapter 6- unanimous

**I know, I know... This isn't tomorrow. I'm sorry... :'-) PLEASE FORGIVE ME! *coughs* ahem... So...umm... review? :-D**

_**unanimous**_

Merlin gazed up at Arthur. "No!" he said desperately. "Please! I'll do anything!" Arthur just stood there, face impassive, unmoving despite Merlin's pleas.

Merlin looked wildly around the room, searching for a trace of pity. Gwaine. Gaius. Leon. Elyan. Gwen. Percival. All of his friends. All looking straight ahead, not meeting Merlin's anguished gaze.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," said Arthur, and Merlin _knew _he was imagining the regretful tone in Arthur's voice. "We voted. It was unanimous." Merlin stared at all his friends, trying to catch someone's eye.

Then Morgana stepped forward, smirking cruelly. "Sorry Merlin," she chuckled. "But you knew the penalties."

"Please!" he begged. "I'm sorry!"

Morgana held out the object she was holding. Merlin winced. Morgana's voice turned ominous. "Too bad. You have no choice. You must accept your punishment." Merlin sighed and stood up.

"Fine! Give me it!" Merlin snapped. Morgana handed it over with an evil grin.

Merlin glared at her and snatched the feathery monstrosity, jamming it onto his head. "Stupid hat," he muttered. There was absolute silence for a heartbeat and then the room was filled with laughter.

Merlin stood stock-still, blowing a stray red feather away from his face, his face twisted into a grimace. Arthur laughed, ruffling the feathers in the hat condescendingly. "Don't worry, _Mer_lin, it's only for twenty-four hours!"

Merlin groaned, and Gwen smiled sympathetically. "That is such a terrible hat."

Gwaine chuckled, then leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes happily. "I will remember this moment forever," he said dreamily.

Merlin smiled despite himself, looking round at his friends.

They had made him wear an atrocious hat, they had laughed at him and mocked him... but he knew that they'd be there for him if times got hard.


	7. Chapter 7- unequivocal

**A million apologies! I can't apologise enough. It's been nearly three weeks and I'm so sorry. In my defence I had so many tests and important exams these past two weeks, and a lot- and I mean a **_**lot- **_**of homework.**

**This drabble was surprisingly difficult to write. I restarted it about ten times, and even now I'm not entirely sure about it...**

**Enjoy, and review- it'll motivate me to update quicker! (Blackmail? I do not know this thing of which you speak...)**

_**unequivocal**_

Merlin groaned, and banged his forehead against the table, instantly regretting it as he felt the sticky traces of spilt beer. "Gwaine?" he said, grimacing in distaste, "why are we here?"

Gwaine chuckled. "Well, Gaius always says you're at the tavern whenever you're actually, you know, doing magic-" he broke off at Merlin's warning hiss, and glanced around. None of the rowdy, drunk patrons had even glanced in their direction, Gwaine's lowered voice entirely drowned out by the raucous laughter and occasional bursts of out-of-tune singing.

"No-one's listening, Merlin," said Gwaine gently. "You need to unwind sometimes. Otherwise you'll explode." Merlin looked down, eyelashes lowered.

"I know," he said. "I just..."

Gwaine smiled sympathetically. "I _know,_ Merlin. I know. But look around! Everyone's drunk, or well on their way. Have a drink, relax. Like I said, you need to have been here at _least_ once, the amount of times Gaius uses the tavern as an alibi for you. Arthur must think you're an alcoholic..."

Merlin smiled faintly. "I suppose one beer wouldn't hurt..."

Gwaine grinned, pushing a tankard across the table towards Merlin and raising his own in the air. "Cheers!"

* * *

Merlin let out a triumphant yell. "Haha! All in one! Take that, Gwaine!"

His friend chuckled. "That was okay, I suppose..." he said.

"Okay?" said Merlin, "that was an unequivocal success!"

Gwaine laughed heartily, shoving another flagon of beer into his hand. "You're not drunk enough if you can still use posh words, mate!"

Merlin took a big swig of the foamy drink, smacking his lips happily. "I should come out drinking with you more often Gwaine! It's great fun!" Gwaine smacked him on the back with a loud guffaw, and Merlin slopped his drink down the front of his tunic.

"Good on you! Next round on me!" Gwaine yelled, and the room erupted into cheers and applause.

* * *

"-go homeeeeeeee!" Merlin belted out the final note, sounding like a banshee. The patrons cheered and hollered, far too drunk to tell the difference between good and bad singing. He bowed, soaking up the applause, then jumping down from the table. He stumbled on the landing and crashed into a table, righting himself with his usual clumsiness.

Gwaine put an arm around him gently. "We should probably leave now," he said pointedly.

"But why?" slurred Merlin. "I'm having so much fun!"

Gwaine sighed. He was much more sober than Merlin, but still woozy. "Because... Because..." he floundered. "I don't know," he conceded. "Let's just stay!"

Merlin beamed, staggering over to the bar and picking up a new drink. "To a good time! To an unequiv-quivoc-cal-ally-ly... To a good time!"

Gwaine grinned, raising his own drink to his lips and downing it in one.

* * *

**The next drabble is a follow-up from this- **_**implode.**_


	8. Chapter 8- implode

**This drabble follows on from the last one, but it can also stand alone. I hope you enjoyed drunk!Merlin as much as me! I was originally intending to take this word prompt in another direction but then I loved drunk!Merlin so much I thought I'd try to write hungover!Merlin.**

**Hope you like it!**

_**implode  
**_

Merlin slunk back into consciousness slowly and painfully, head throbbing. He could hear a deafening banging and he groaned, flailing at nothing, eyes still tightly shut. He could feel something unpleasantly sticky in his hair, and his left hand was resting in a puddle of what he _sincerely_ hoped was a beverage.

The banging grew louder, and now he could hear a voice too. It sounded angry. He groaned again. "Stop," he said weakly.

There was a niggling thought at the back of his brain, jumping up and down and trying to get his attention. He ignored it. He had more pressing concerns.

What on _earth _had happened last night? It was coming back to him in sickening bursts of memory. He remembered going to the tavern and agreeing to one drink. He remembered one drink turning into two, and three, and five, and ten... He remembered singing on a table and hurting himself jumping _off _the table... But he didn't remember going home. He couldn't still be in the tavern, could he?

He reluctantly opened his eyes, wincing at the bright sunlight. Wait. Sunlight? Oh no. The niggling thought he had ignored was yelling at him.

Morning.

Arthur.

Breakfast.

"Oh no," he moaned. "Oh no oh no oh no!" He surveyed his surroundings, his horror growing every second. He was indeed in the tavern, to his dismay- lying awkwardly on a table. His hand was in a spilled pool of lukewarm beer, to his slight relief. Gwaine was sprawled across a chair on the other side of the room- at least he hadn't been abandoned...

The infernal banging got louder, as did the shouting, and Merlin was simultaneously aware of four things.

First, the banging was coming from the door. As in, someone was trying, fairly hard but without much success, to get into the tavern.

Second, he had an absolutely pounding headache and the noise was not helping.

Third, the raised voice was most definitely Arthur.

Fourth, he was screwed.

Across the room, Gwaine stirred, stretching and yawning as he clambered to his feet, looking none the worse for wear after a night spent drinking and then sleeping in a tavern.

He wandered over to wear Merlin had sunk to the floor, head in hands. "What's up, Merlin?" he asked cheerily. "You look a little worried."

Merlin let out a hollow laugh. "A little worried?" He looked up at Gwaine with a face drawn with pain. "Arthur's practically banging down the door, when he gets in he's going to kill me, and I think my head's going to implode."

"Implode?" asked Gwaine curiously. "Why not explode?"

"Because if my head were to _ex_plode, I'd have to clean it up."

Gwaine laughed, placing a comforting hand on Merlin's head then quickly removing it as his hand touched the sticky, congealed alcohol residue there.

"Does this mean you don't want to... what did you say... 'come out drinking with me again because it's so much fun'?" laughed Gwaine.

Merlin shook his head. "Never again," he whispered emphatically. _"Never again."_


End file.
